Being Denied is Good
by AsianCutie93
Summary: AU, England was the best when it came to everything but that changed when Fem-Prussia came to World Academy. This is dedicated to Phamenia!


This oneshot is dedicated to my lovely reviewer **Phamenia** from my other fanfic The Artist in Salzburg. I'm very excited because England is my favorite character and I haven't written a story about him, hetero couples need more fanfics in Hetalia, and I've never written a gender bending story. This is all pretty cool. But I hope that Phamenia likes this and this meets her expectations.

Summary: AU, England was the best when it came to everything but that changed when Fem-Prussia came to World Academy.

Main Pairing: England/Fem-Prussia

Hinted Pairings: France/Seychelles, England/Seychelles, Russia/Seychelles, and Russia/Fem-Prussia

Warnings: Gender bending, drug use, child abuse, character death, and slight pedophilia

NOTES:  
1. Fem-Prussia's name in this fanfic is Maria Beilschmidt because I found that Maria is the most common name for Fem-Prussia so I'll stick to it (at least until Himaruya comes up with a name).  
2. Seychelle's name in this fanfic is Araina Zazen since Himaruya didn't come up with a name for her either.  
3. Granda Rome's name in this fanfic is Remus Vargas since... I like that name? Lol, I thought it was cute.  
4. This is written in England's (Arthur) point of view.  
5. I have no clue how to fence. If you do and are horribly offended by what I just wrote, please tell me and I will edit this!

**Being Denied is Good**

"Arthur, king of England, old man, whatever you want to be called, get your ass out of bed and fix the car before our road trip tomorrow. You can't put this off anymore you procrastinator!" My wife yelled. Her alabaster skin was flushing a dark pink of irritation. I chucked softly and leaned down to kiss Maria's cheek. The albino woman just seemed angrier at me and mumbled something about my actions being not awesome. She stomped out of our bedroom and descended down the stairs with great speed. My wife always gets stressed when everything isn't prepared at least two days before the due date, for she was anal retentive like that. But I was lucky to have her. The woman was always too good for me or anyone on this planet really, but I am not complaining.

When she called me "king of England" though, I felt like I went back in time to my school days at World Academy. It was a strange school that was started by a wealthy Italian man named Remus Vargas. The man believed that intelligence was a universal treasure and that it can be found anywhere in the globe, not just the Western world. Using his vast resources, he sent many troops around the world with IQ tests fitted to the cultures of the countries they were visiting and would ask children to take this test. The results fit his hypothesis and many countries that were third or second world in rank had just as many children with an IQ of 165 or greater as the first world countries. All the children with such outstanding IQ scores were offered the opportunity to learn at Mr. Vargas' World Academy where they could literally learn anything they desired to. Those who took his generous offer were flown straight to Italy. They learned multiple languages and were given classes that weren't offered anywhere else.

Before I was born, all of my older brothers were admitted into World Academy so it was no longer surprising to my father Winston and my mother Elizabeth to find that I too had been excepted. What was surprising was how high my IQ actually was. I had set the record at World Academy as the highest IQ they every recorded which was 230. It was so high that they couldn't even measure it properly during that time. Immediately when I came into the school when I was four years old, I could hear the halls full of students whispering gossip about me. People over double or triple my age knew my name and contemplated what I was capable of. Though I was always compared to my brothers that were already there. They were all getting awarded their first masters degrees at afe twelve and had IQs only ranging from 175 to 190 (high IQs but still small in comparison to my own). Would I be able to prove myself or would I be a disappointment?

My French cousin Francis thought well of me. He always encouraged me by tuning into the competitive side in me and became my rival. It was probably through my bond with him that I achieved so much, but our relationship soured when he began dating this African girl Araina Zazen. She was from the island nation Seychelles and I felt a strong desire to have her. At the age of fourteen, I did everything I could to impress the caramel skinned beauty. I became the youngest fencing tournament champion, tripled the amount of masters and doctorates I had, and even wrote many sons in her honor. All the work only helped my academic success and gave me the nick name "king of England."

I was crowned the rank of brightest student in a school full of accelerated students. It was given to me by the founder of the school. It was the first time I met Remus Vargas face to face. The man was already in his seventies and yet he stood like a mighty oak. His chestnut colored hair was freshly cut save for this lone hair curl. But my eyes were glued on his golden colored orbs. It was odd how I saw a youth in his eyes that I would eventually lose in mine eight years later. The larder man drew a sword and gestured for me to kneel and bow my head. Once I did he tapped both of my shoulders and head.

"Arist Arthur Kirkland!" He commanded of me. I stood as straight as my lanky, fourteen year old frame allowed me to when he placed a golden crest a top my blonde hair and beamed his rumored, trademark smile. I gave him a small smile and then he said "You have accomplished at lot at your age. You earned the highest honor, the king of knowledge. You have mastered seventeen languages, vast knowledge in mathematics, sciences, literatures, and the social sciences, and excel just as well in the music and arts. Arthur Kirkland, you are the embodiment of what this academy is about. I used to believe human beings had lost the individuals of the renaissance, the scholars of Baghdad and Athens, and the innovators and opportunists of the industrial era. But I am absolutely happy to be proven wrong. Long live the king from England!"

The cheers, claps, and roars of the crowd were muddy and distorted in my memory. The only thing I noticed when it came to the masses of people was Araina's lovely face. But it pained me to see my cousin Francis' arms wrapped around her small frame and his face resting against the soft strands that grow from her head. I hid my hurt and shook the founder's hand, my heart still focused on their relationship and how to get what I want.

Chess was never my forte. My French cousin and the beauty from Seychelles absolutely loved the game my cousin being the more obsessed one. The wavy haired and flamboyant man knew everything when it came to the game. When I was young, I would blindfold him and make his fingertips feel the flat bottom of the pieces. He would trace the diameter and circumference of the piece and would answer correctly what piece it was. Now he used that same, idiotic knowledge to gain the tenders of the woman I was interested in.

The perfect plan came to me when a couple weeks later I met a student from Norway at my school. His dull blue eyes and his overly relaxed attitude were blear signs to me that he was on Retalin. I began chatting with him, it was normal for the first several weeks. My years in drama had paid off. The young man was actually believing this web of talks of how I am addicted to Retalin and sometimes went through painful withdrawals. After three monthes of this, the young man put in my hand a plastic bag with several white pills in them. The Norwegian told me if I really wanted a fix, he can supply them to me and tell his doctors that he just accidentally lost them. I thanked him, giving a crushing hug and tender kiss on the cheek. Before I could see his response I dashed back to my room.

I grounded two of the pills into a fine powder and mixed it into a fruit concoction that I made in a blender. In the end, it appeared to look like an ordinary fruit juice. But I was excited that I couldn't wait for my cousin to taste. Once I shoved the drugged slush into a bottle, I raced out of my room and into my French rival's. The poor, ignorant bastard sat on his bed, playing chess like he usually did.

"Francis, another night of chess again? Many would start to wonder if your sexual potency is truly as fiery as you try to make it out to be?"

"Oh, you can just ask all the beautiful people that are a part of my fan club." Francis said dramatically.

"Well, I made you a little something... you frog." I jested.

"Cooking again Arthur? I thought after the last fire- "No no, just blended some fruits together. Do you want to try it or not?" I interrupted. The French man smiled and took the elixir from my hands and tried a sip.

"This is actually delicious. Thank you cousin." When he said thank you, I couldn't help but feel guilty of what was to come. For several weeks I would drug the man's drinks, anything ranging from tea, hot chocolate, milk, anything that had taste so he couldn't suspect or detect any drugs. The first thing to go was the perfect sheen that Francis bragged about so much. The wavy strands that framed his face grew dry and coarse. His staying up for several days and crashing led to bags under his eyes and his skin dried and wrinkled slightly. Araina was getting so concerned about Francis' behavior that she stayed by his side almost all the time. I was about to terminate my plan and accept defeat when the unexpected happened.

While the founder was visiting the school, introducing his grandchildren Romano and Feliciano to all of the teachers, he heard gun shots a close distance away. The elder man made the teachers and his grandchildren hide safe rooms and told them to call the police while he found out what was going on. He rushed in the direction of the shots, meandering around the sharp turns. As soon as the founder went into the room, it was too late to stop the madness. My French cousin was so startled by the man's intrusion that he emptied nine bullets into him.

The founder's elaborate funeral and Francis' incarceration sped by to me because I had used those events to woo Araina. She didn't seem affected by my attempts, but four years later when we graduated, she finally said yes. She had probably used the time to get over the pain of losing Francis and I should have felt happy that I had gotten her. But I didn't feel a thrill in me. I felt empty, like I had made a terrible mistake. I was missing a part of me.

I found that part when I was eighteen and I accepted my job as Calculus teacher at World Academy. My first day in class, I predicted that my cousins Matthew and Alfred at ages ten at the time, would be the youngest students there. Yet there in the front, middle row was an eight year old girl that was waiting for me to speak. Her silky white strands framed her angelic shaped face and contrasted against her bright red, demonic eyes. A shock of electricity flowed through my bottle when I saw her smirking at me and her eyes developed a sheen that appeared like she had a silver veil over them. I didn't know if at that moment the albino girl was looking into my soul of if that was the look she had when she anticipated learning something new, either reason the stare made my insides quake with fear.

Our relationship was a normal student-teacher relationship, but people could see changes in me. Araina, who was still my girlfriend, expressed to me her feelings about my waning affection toward her. I denied such things for my feelings for her were still similar. The African woman brought out healthy, sexual arousal and I felt we had many interests and hobbies shared. The dark skinned girl was the perfect one for me.

Yet I can't stop the dreams. Dreams of skin the color of clouds, wrapped around the small frame of a child with piercing red eyes. Most of the illusions had her dressed in dark clothing and with the wings of a demon, motioning to come to her. The sensation of heat pooling in my stomach and my body profusely sweating as it it were in a marathon made me weak. In the end of these dreams the child would lay her body over mine and tell me to be one with her. I would wake up as soon as the albino started layering multiple kisses on my jawline and neck. After all those images, I would wake up lying over my cold, wet sheets. Although I know I had ejaculated in my pajama trousers, it still upset me to find the evidence every time I checked. Not because it was bothersome to clean or because I was betraying Araina, but I felt dread because I was becoming a disgusting pedophile. I was lusting after an eight year old girl.

For four years I kept this to myself. I believed if I avoided her presence as much as possible, then it will be tolerable.

But one afternoon the new headmaster of the school, a former student before my time at World Academy, Ivan Braginski, insisted that I watch the final round of the fencing tournament. He talked of the school's champion battling the rival accelerated school's champion, and how this student representing us, was only twelve years old. The fall, pale man was in awe and couldn't believe my record would be broken so soon. I shrugged it off since it wasn't hard for children to win at fencing with not much physical strength. I was never considered a brawny lad, but my quick thinking and well planned strategies before the match began won my victories. But what shocked me however was that he said the champion of World Academy was Maria Beilschmidt, the same child that I was loathing myself over. The child that haunted my dreams.

The stands were packed that day. Benches were full of students from both schools, all were loudly cheering for their champion. World Academy cheered for Maria, who appeared to be loving all the attention. The pale girl stood proudly, blowing obnoxious kisses to her crowds of admirers. It was only when Ivan blew a loud whistle did everyone grow silent. Maria and the larger, male challenger stepped close together until their rapiers were touching.

"There are ten points for every round. Five points will be rewarded to the person who wins the round, three points will be given to the person with the best technique, and two points will be given to the one with the most unique fighting style. Are there any questions?" Neither of the representatives asked any questions. "Alright, you may begin!" Braginski yelled and backed away from the fencers.

Maria twirled her rapier around and forced her opponent to lose the grip on his own. When the tip of her weapon was only an inch away from the challenger's neck, that signalled the end of the first round. Most of the crowd including myself clapped for her small victory but could she really have the endurance to win the majority of eleven more rounds?

Second round was much longer. Both wouldn't budge until Maria abruptly leaped to dodge an attack and slashed her opponent's protective gear. The round ended in her favor because the tear in the other school champion's clothing was right over where his heart was located. It was amazing that the crafty girl had only lost one out of the twelve rounds. Her swift work led to the breaking of my record and to my heart beating more erratically than the crowd's applause.

Ivan called for me suddenly, for I was the holder of the record of youngest fencing champion before this day. He apparently wanted me to award Maria the medal. I gasped but kept my composure. I got out of my seat and slowly walked out to the center of the platform. My trembling hands clammed hard on the medal and were miraculously about to put the pin through her uniform. Yet I couldn't stop myself from imagining her young, budding bosoms were underneath the thick layered bodysuit. Once the girl was rewarded, the crowds dissipated. Soon the principals and even the cleaning staff were gone. It was only Maria and I talking in the stadium.

"Sorry I beat your record professor Kirkland, but I'm too awesome to not succeed." She said and coyly winked at me.

"Well, even though I am a naturally competitive person, I know when I am beaten." I saw her face become deflated, as if she didn't believe my words.

"Really?" Maria questioned.

"I mean it. In fact, to show that I have no anger or ill feelings, why don't you have dinner with me tomorrow night?" The young girl looked at me with disgust and looked like she wanted to slap me. Her eyes that were usually a ruby red were now dark crimson.

"Sure, I'll be there if it pleases you pervert." She spat and stormed off. I was shocked.

Tomorrow night's dinner wasn't that much different.

"How does it feel to sleep in your filthy, incestuous bed?"

"Excuse me?" I gasped.

"You sleep with a loose woman who not only slept with you cousin, but is also sleeping with the headmaster according to rumors and the body language they share between each other. I found the word filthy more eloquent than the phrase _whore infested_, and it's considered incestuous when one person sleeps with their relatives mate or as I like to call them if they were dumped, the leftovers." I chucked nervously and muttered about how amazing that she made such rash and untrue judgments about me. But she wasn't amused with my acting.

"What are you playing at Kirkland? Do you even know this web of idiocy and insanity that you intricately weaved yourself? Look, I'm not an idiot. I have an IQ just as high as yours, maybe higher so I noticed the feelings that you've been developing towards me. I'm not sure if you're a pedophile or it you just haven't gotten some from that trash you call a girlfriend, whatever your reasoning I don't care. I used to think it was admirable of you to ignore such feelings but I can see your good nature like all men has crumbled. Find another woman or girl to appease whatever your perversions may be. I'm young, a dedicated Catholic, and frankly, I find you pathetic. Honestly, you are so little a man that you are trying to seduce a twelve year old in order to sow your wild oats? Absolutely pathetic, no wonder all you amounted to was just a teacher."

She was right. All her words were nothing but venomous truth that I couldn't bear to tell myself. I was letting my libido dictate my actions. I had even hurt a relative of mine by acting upon my first target of lust, who was to say that once I did have Maria that things would be different? The first thing I did when the young girl left was break up with Araina over the phone. The woman didn't seem upset at all, in fact, she seemed happy.

Weeks went by before I was painfully reminded of Maria. The headmaster came to me, looking distressed.

"Arthur, my colleague, do you understand the subject matter of these letters" he asked me with panic in his voice. I was able to shuffle through them due to my speed reading, and was shocked to find they were love letters. All of them were various poems, essays, and other documents written by Maria Beilschmidt about her feelings about Ivan. I was torn between laughing at the young girl's hypocrisy and crying in despair. When I didn't respond, the headmaster pointed to the word _god_ and stared at me.

"Look at the amount of times she references the Catholic church's teachings. The Holy Trinity, Christ, Lord, Holy father, Forgiving virgin mother, it tells me that she is either fascinated by the faith or she is a believer." I nodded, not understanding the danger he felt.

"Religious beliefs such as this stunt a child's learning. You were able to accomplish such great tasks because you were atheist, free of such shackles. I believe she can be even greater than anyone before her, but this poison, this faith, will bring absolute destruction to her success."

"Ivan Braginski, I don't have feelings even similar to the horrid statements that you have presented to me. The founder of this academy was a dedicated Catholic who built his own private chapel in the school. It is outrageous to think that religion and logic cannot pair hand in hand. Please, dispel any thoughts of this matter. Maria is a young girl who holds strong affection towards you and knows only to express it by making references to her faith." But the Russia man shook his head.

"No, I must talk to her about this. Please, notify the staff that I will not be answering any questions this afternoon. I will call Maria to my office at nine at night."

"Are you sure that your reputation would be safe doing so?" I asked, knowing that many people did not think fondly of the pale blonde.

"I have only the reputation of a monster, so I need not worry." Before I could protest anymore, the man dashed off with the large bundle of letters clutched in his hands. I thought I was disgusting envying him.

After a late supper, I trudged heavily to bed. As I was about to settle into the crisp sheets, I head a haunting scream. I shoved myself underneath the covers and peered around the room for ghosts. When I saw no apparitions, I thought that I merely hallucinated of had fallen asleep while standing. I fluffed the pillows and snuggled into the warm comforter before I heard another tortures cry echo down to my room. I hopped out of bed and ran in the direction of the sound. I pulled my cellphone out and called for campus security to follow me to the basement of the school. I arrived at the door containing the screams and discovered it was locked. I did my best to tear it down, bashing my body against the wood. It would shake but the bolts that held it down were too strong.

Horrid cries begging for the abuse to stop kept me determined. I kept shoving my body into the door until finally the structure was out of the way. I gasped at the sight before me.

Ivan stood tall, holding a long, metallic chain that was attached to a collar around Maria's neck. The large man's right foot put pressure on her back, making her forced to lie on her belly. Her arms and torso had open wounds and bruises, probably caused from the water pipe in Ivan's hands that had freckles of blood on it. Maria coughed violently, spewing blood on the floor. Once she had stopped I heard her whisper "Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..." The bastard raised his steel weapon to strike her but I charged in and tackled him to the ground. Immediately getting off of him to check up on Maria and seeing if her vitals were in order, I also saw that the campus security had come. They must have seen Ivan getting up because they started shooting. Maria cried into my shoulders and I covered her ears to muffled the gunshots.

I stroked her hair once they were done. Once they had gotten rid of Ivan's body, she pointed at a drawer in Ivan's office, specifically the top left one and said "The key is in there. He said that he would keep it there until I had given up my Christian teachings. I told him I would never to that but he..." She stopped to sob a little. "He didn't care. He told me I was the school's symbol and that I shouldn't attach myself to things so negative. I thought that he of all people would understand what it was like to be oppressed and never break down... but I was wrong..." I held her tighter and motioned for someone to check the drawer for a key to her collar.

I kissed her forehead and told her that she would be safe again. When I looked into her eyes, it was amazing to see her gaze at me without disgust. Maria leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

"Thank you Mr. Kirkland for saving me." I flushed. Although Maria is an intelligent girl, she was still susceptible to childish crushes. I needed to stop this to ensure not only my heart, but her safety and well being.

I carried Maria to the hospital wing of the school, setting her down on the cotton cot gently.

"He didn't hurt me sexually you know, I'm not a whore."

"You wouldn't be one even if he did touch you Maria. Now rest, it might take you a couple weeks to fully heal." I whispered.

"Nah, I'll be fine old man. You'll be by my side right?" Her ruby eyes made me melt. I wanted desperately to fulfill her request.

"No, we should forget each other's existence. We will find other people to feed our perversions toward each other. Please stay out of danger. If you wish to truly wish to save yourself for someone, go to a nunnery and learn through the school's online technology program. Good bye Maria Beilschmidt." I gave her a kiss on the cheek before whisking off and back into my room. I landed on the pillows with a heavy thud and cried softly to myself.

I tried to forget her. Maria was just acting upon her thanks to my rescuing. But my weeks of avoiding probably angered her. Though once she confronted me I knew I was trapped.

"It is funny how god has given you the mind of a scholar like Plato and Aristotle, but the heart of an ignorant school boy."

"The words school boy would imply that my feelings have innocence in them. There isn't anything innocent about an elder man who attempted to woo a young woman who is not even a teenager into a deceitful and ridiculous relationship. For once, you shall be denied of your desires." I told her. She banged her left fist roughly against the wall and growled.

"How arrogant of yourself to think you are so high in rank, that you were the first to deny an awesome person like me anything. Do you know when I was first denied? My parents denied to acknowledge my existence because of my appearance. I was inferior to them. I was sent to live with my grandfather, away from the parents that birthed me and my younger Ludwig who I have only contact with him through letters and emails. You see, when they denied me they also denied my wanting to see my baby brother even before he was born." Her eyes glazed with sadness.

"I'm sorry, my wording was inconsiderate for it was based on my own experiences. I was never denied anything until that dinner with you." She smirked.

"Well you spoiled brat, I'm going to deny you again. You can't run from me." Maria pulled me by the collar of my shirt and forced our lips to meet...

"Arthur, are you not at the car yet? You lazy ass!" Maria yelled, bringing me back from my trip to the past.

"Yes, I am flawed. But you chose me dear Maria." I kissed her. The fire I feel from the first kiss when she was twelve and I twenty-two, was still there now that we are twenty-eight and thirty-eight.

THE END

Well, I hoped everyone liked it! Read and review!


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